


Griffin's Anatomy: Raven

by HawthorneWhisperer



Series: Griffin's Anatomy [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-04-03 09:31:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4095901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawthorneWhisperer/pseuds/HawthorneWhisperer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>An anon requested an ice mechanic addition to this universe, so I've unceremoniously written Wick out, just like in canon.</p><p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Motor vehicle versus bicyclist.  Crushed left femur, probable broken ribs,” Raven recited and pushed the gurney into the ER.  “BP is ninety over seventy-five, and–oh, you have  _got_  to be kidding me.”  Raven stopped walking abruptly and Wick crashed into her back.

“What the hell?” he barked.  “Patient lost consciousness briefly on the way over, possible concussion,” he finished.  The doctors and nurses of the ER swarmed the patient and Wick dragged her away.  “What the hell?” he asked again.

Raven kept her eyes trained on the blonde woman in the distance.  “Un-fucking-believable,” she muttered and stormed across the crowded ER, Wick close on her heels.  “Hey–you!” she yelled.  People were staring, but Raven stopped giving a damn about causing a scene a long time ago.  The other woman looked up and froze.  “What are you doing here?” Raven hissed when she was close enough.

Clarke swallowed thickly.  “Working.”

“Let me rephrase that.  What are you doing here?”

“Reyes, maybe we should–”

“Stay out of it,” Raven said without looking at Wick.  “I asked you a question,” she reminded Clarke.

“I work here.  I grew up here, actually,” Clarke said tightly.  She grabbed a chart from the nearest desk and flipped it open.

“So you’re why he stayed back east.  It wasn’t enough for you to fuck my boyfriend; you had to keep him from coming back to me at all.”

Clarke stared at the chart, her jaw clenched.  “I didn’t know,” she said quietly.

“What was that?”

“I didn’t know,” Clarke repeated firmly.  “Okay?  I didn’t know he had a girlfriend and I sure as hell didn’t know you lived here.  I didn’t tell him he could or couldn’t come work here, because I’ve barely spoken to him since.”  She snapped the chart shut and looked Raven right in the eye.  “And for what it’s worth?  I’m sorry.”  Clarke spun on her heel and walked away, her shoulders straight.

Wick grabbed Raven’s wrist and dragged him after her.  He didn’t speak until they were safely ensconced in the bus, his voice gentle.  “Finn?”  Raven made an angry sound and Wick sighed.  “You didn’t tell me the other woman was Abby Griffin’s daughter.”

“Oh god.”  Raven buried her face in her hands.  She should have realized it, because everyone knew Abby had a daughter.  A daughter in med school all the way across the country, a daughter named…Clarke.  In her anger with Finn she hadn’t put it together, but now it made perfect sense.  It also meant her rapidly forming plan to find Clarke’s car and egg the shit out of it would never happen, because Abby might find out and Raven couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing Abby Griffin, the only surgeon who not only knew the EMT’s names but made a point of inviting them to hospital events.

Wick put his hand on her shoulder but Raven twisted out of his reach.  “What do you care?” she sneered and hopped out of the ambulance, furious with the world.  Things had been tense with Wick ever since she came back from her disastrous visit with Finn.   _We should have sex_ , she’d joked drunkenly two nights after she returned.  A spasm crossed Wick’s face.   _No, we shouldn’t,_  he snapped and just like that their easy rapport evaporated.

Raven made her way into the small alleyway behind the hospital before she sank down on her heels, her palms pressed into her eyes so hard she saw stars.  She was done crying about the whole fucking thing.  She was done crying about it months ago, when Finn told her he wasn’t coming back.  Ever.

At the time, she thought it was because he wanted a fresh start so she let him go, because even if they were done, she loved him.  Finn was family.  He would always be family and she could move past the betrayal, but now she knew he didn’t come back because of her, not because he wanted a clean slate or to give her space.

“What did she do to you?” someone asked.  Raven stood and wiped at her cheeks. “Clarke.  How’d she piss you off?”

“She exists,” Raven deadpanned.

The speaker snorted and ran his fingers through his hair.  “Reyes, right?  I’m Murphy.  Surgical intern.”  Raven struggled not to roll her eyes but shook his hand anyway.  “Want me to do something to her?  Shuffle her charts, send her on fake errands?”

Raven chuckled and leaned against the cement block wall behind her.  “You could fuck me.”  She waited for his laugh or sputters of protestation.  

Instead he just watched her with hooded eyes and turned to go.  “My shift ends at nine,” he called over his shoulder.  

***

Raven lied to Wick when their shift was over and said she had errands to run and then second guessed herself for the hundredth time that day while she stood behind the hospital.  The intern was handsome in an odd way, all sharp angles and flat planes, and it wasn’t like Raven was a stranger to random sex.  Especially not since Finn, when she launched her one woman campaign to fuck him out of her brain.

Still, meeting a total stranger in a back alley was maybe not her brightest idea.  She’d almost decided she would leave when he walked out and looked mildly surprised to see her.  “You came,” he noted.

“Not yet,” she threw back and half of a smile curled across his face.

“Come on, let’s get a drink,” he said and tipped his head.

“I didn’t ask for a date,” Raven said even as she followed him.

“Well, you’re getting one.”

All things considered, Raven had been on worse first dates.  At the very least Murphy (she wasn’t sure if it was a first or last name but honestly she didn’t really care) had a sense of humor and a dry wit that matched hers.  If it had been up to her they would have fucked in the bar bathroom and been done with it, but he waited until their beers were done to raise his eyebrows.  “I live upstairs,” he said pointedly.

Raven slapped some cash on the bar and followed him up the dim stairs to his apartment.  “Love what you’ve done with the place,” she said as he locked the door.  His studio apartment was furnished with two (mismatched) chairs, a rickety table, and a mattress on the floor with an ancient laptop next to it.  That was it.   _He might be a serial killer,_  she thought wryly.

“Loans,” he said simply over the wail of sirens outside his windows and fitted his hand behind her ear, drawing her face close to his and then pausing, waiting for her to close the gap between them.  

She did, and that set the tone for the evening.  He would bring her to the edge and then wait for her to push them over, like he was daring her to finish what she started with her offhanded comment.  Raven never shied from a challenge so she met him every time he backed away, teasing her even as she refused to be teased.

It was a fairly effective technique, she had to admit.  It was some of the best sex she’d ever had, but when she came back from the bathroom he was smiling almost sweetly and her heart sank.  She got dressed without looking at him even though she could feel his eyes on her, and when she was safely out of his apartment she deleted the number he’d put into her phone.  She had a text from Wick that she ignored, and she tugged her jacket up higher against the chill as she walked the eight blocks home.


	2. Chapter 2

Raven was floating.  Floating and soaring and twisting and turning, but as she blinked her eyes open she slowly returned to the ground.  She wasn’t weightless anymore–she was heavy.  Anchored to the bed, something cold in her arm.  Machines were beeping and people were talking around her, hushed and nervous.

“She’s waking up,” someone pointed out and a cool, dry hand clasped hers.

“Raven, honey–do you know where you are?”

She recognized the voice, but it took her a second to place it.  The long brown braid dangling near the edge of the bed helped.   _Abby.  Abby Griffin._  “Hospital?” Raven guessed.

“That’s right.  Do you know why?”  Something in Abby’s voice worried her–Abby was being too gentle, too indirect.  Raven racked her memory, even though it was like wading through a pool of marshmallows.  She vaguely remembered a call, something about shots fired and bystanders down.  The cops had the situation under control, until–until they didn’t.  She remembered pain, burning pain in her lower back, and then numbness.  Raven panicked and tried to sit up, to move her legs and fingers all at once and reassure herself she wasn’t paralyzed.  “Shh, shh,” Abby soothed.  “You’re okay.”

Another voice joined in from the other side of her bed.  “The bullet hit very close to your spine so we had to do surgery.”  The speaker was a man, maybe Abby’s age.  He was handsome and somehow familiar.  “I’m Dr. Kane, by the way–we’ve met a few times in the ER.”   _Right.  Kane.  The neurosurgeon._   That tidbit of information panicked her again but he kept talking.  “As I was saying, the bullet hit close to your spine.  It was a delicate surgery, and we did the best we could.”

“We?”  Her voice was gravelly and far too weak.

“Dr. Murphy assisted,” Kane explained.  Raven noticed him at the foot of her bed, looking uncomfortable.   _You’ve been inside me, I don’t see why you’re being weird about digging around in my back,_ she wanted to snap, but Kane was still going.  “We managed to get the bullet out before it did any major damage, but there may be some lingering problems with mobility in your left leg.”

“Can I walk?”  She tried to keep her words from wavering but wasn’t entirely successful.

“You should be able to, although there may be some impairment.  We won’t know for a few days.  Do you have any questions?”

Raven closed her eyes and wished them all away.  “Get out,” she said quietly.  And then, “Get  _out_ ,” louder, because there were too many people watching her, too many witnesses to her weakness.

Abby patted her hand.  “Your partner Kyle is outside–he’s been wanting to see you.  Should I send him in?”

“No,” Raven snarled and the doctors filed out, leaving her alone.  Like always.

She slept for the next day, only waking up to growl at nurses and scare away whatever interns they sent to check on her.  Once they even sent  _Clarke_ , who took her vitals and checked her bandages and whispered  _I’m so sorry_  as she scuttled away.

A different familiar voice woke her the next day and for a second, she thought she was hallucinating because he’d told her he was never, ever coming home.  “Hey there,” Finn said with a gentle smile on his face.  “I hear you got yourself shot.”  He brushed her hair back from her face and for a second, she smiled.  But then she shattered and the sobs she’d been holding back since Abby spoke to her came shuddering out, wracking her body and drenching her pillow.  Finn stayed silent, years of experience keeping him from offering platitudes or trying to fix it.  He just clasped her hand in his and when she was done, helped her dry her tears.

“How–how did you know?” she hiccuped.

Finn looked down, his dark brown hair hiding his face.  “Clarke called.  She thought you needed someone.”

“God I wish she was easier to hate,” Raven muttered and Finn chuckled wryly.

“I’m sorry,” he said, for the millionth time.

“I know.”  Raven squeezed his hand.  “Thanks for being here.”

Finn squeezed her hand back.  “You’re family.  Of course I’d be here.”

“You need a haircut,” she pointed out.

“Then you need to get better and get out of this hospital so you can give me one,” he countered with smile.

“You’re on, Collins,” Raven declared and let him weave his fingers between hers.  

After all, Finn was right–they were family.


	3. Chapter 3

Raven paused her game and took a sip of her beer.  “It’s open!” she yelled toward the knock on the door and hit play again without looking up.

Wick let himself in and stood at the edge of the couch with his arms crossed.  “When was the last time you left this pit of an apartment?”  Raven took offense at his description, because while she had the shades drawn even though it was still afternoon it wasn’t a  _pit_. Finn had helped her keep it clean, but he’d been gone for a few weeks now and she hadn’t really kept up.  It was little messy and dim, maybe, but it wasn’t  _that_  bad.  

“Yesterday.  I had PT.”  Raven left out the fact that her physical therapy appointments largely consisted of her cursing while her leg refused to do what she wanted it to, and Emori calmly asking her to try again until Raven lost it and called her a sadistic bitch.

“Let me rephrase.  When was the last time you left this apartment of your own free will?”

Raven shrugged and kept playing.  Wick sat down next to her and snatched the controller from her hands.  “What do you want?” she asked sourly.

“I  _want_  you to talk to me like you used to.”

“Things are different now,” she grumbled and gestured to her leg, propped up in front of her like the useless piece of shit it was.

“They are.  Doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me about it,” Wick pointed out.

“Maybe there’s nothing to talk about,” Raven lied.  She’d been avoiding Wick since before she was shot because suddenly, things between them were too much.

She’d fallen in love with her best friend once and for years, she thought she knew how things would play out.  He went off to medical school and she stayed home, but it was just four years.  Four years of visits and long weekends, and then he’d come back to her and things would go back to normal.  But then everything fell apart and no matter how much she still loved Finn, she’d lost her best friend.

If she was honest with herself, Wick had slowly started to fit into the place where Finn was missing, teasing her when she fell into one of her moods, challenging her when she needed it.   But she’d started relying on him, and that meant she couldn’t risk destroying that.  She’d lost Finn and she couldn’t afford to lose Wick too.

“Enough of this,” Wick snapped and stood up.  “Come on.  Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“Somewhere.  Anywhere.  Come on–grab your crutch and let’s go.”

Raven eyed him warily, but she knew fighting Wick when he was determined like this was a losing proposition.  he didn’t want to lose him and if she kept fighting, she would.  So against her better instincts, she gave in.She fit her crutch under her arm and ignored him as they hobbled out of her apartment and down to the street.  “This way,” she ordered and Wick followed without an argument.  

“Where are we going?” Wick asked.

“Vino’s.  You’re buying me dinner.”

“Reyes, are you asking me out?”

She rolled her eyes and stopped to wait for the light.  “Please.  I’m so far out of your league it isn’t even funny.”

“You’re out of my league?  Never.  I’m out of  _your_  league,” he volleyed back, measuring his steps so they stayed in sync.

Raven elbowed him with her free arm.  “You’re still buying me dinner.”  Wick smiled and her heart lightened, just a little.

And it lightened a little more when he slid in next to her in the booth, and a little bit more when he used his thumb to wipe a bit of sauce off her chin.

By the time he kissed her back at her apartment, she was positively floating.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An anon requested an ice mechanic addition to this universe, so I've unceremoniously written Wick out, just like in canon.
> 
> Enjoy!

“We’ve got a call, girlfriend,” Gina announced.  “Pick up from Mount Weather.”

Raven sighed and threw down her magazine to head to their bus.  The entire ski season was full of runs like this, transporting broken legs and arms from the bottom of the mountainside resort to Arcadia South.  They were annoying, if she was to be perfectly honest.  At least she’d gotten a new partner— Wick was too tied to her memories of recovery for her to handle, especially when they got reminders of her old life like this.  But Gina wasn’t linked to any bad memories, and Raven liked her a lot besides.

Mountain Search and Rescue met them in the parking lot and helped them with the transfer.  “Thirty one year old male, broken leg, probable broken ribs,” the lead paramedic reported.

Raven looked down and let out a bark of laughter.  “Roan!  Look at that, back again.  Did you really miss me this much?” she teased.

He let out a weak laugh, his handsome face unsettlingly pale.  “What can I say?  You’re an impressive woman.”  

Raven shook her head and loaded him into the back of the bus.  Gina was driving, so she headed to the front while Raven climbed in the back to monitor him.   “So what was it this time?” Raven asked.  So far, she’d transported him for a broken collarbone (surfing), a broken arm and road rash (motorcyle accident), and a broken foot (also surfing.)  “Let me guess— snowboarding?”  That seemed like his type of sport.  Ahead, Gina flipped on the sirens as traffic slowed their progress. 

“Heliskiing, actually ” Roan said, his voice pained.

“Heliskiing?  Where you jump out of a helicopter and ski down a mountain?”

“That’s the general idea, yeah.”

“Well congratulations.  You’re officially a parody of a rich person now.”

He laughed, a little too weakly for her taste.  Roan was usually flirtatious, completely unconcerned by the pain his injuries caused him.  “You having a hard time breathing?” she asked.

“Only because you take my breath away,” he rasped.

She sent him an exasperated look, softening it with a smile.  “Gina, how’s the traffic looking?” Raven called to the front.

“We’re bumper to bumper for another block, but I can hang a right on 12th and then we should be free and clear.  Just another few minutes.”

“You hear that?  You’ve only got a few more minutes to work your charm on me,” she teased.  Roan smiled, but it looked more like a wince.  His hand found hers and even though it wasn’t strictly protocol, she squeezed it.  “Hang in there, okay?  You’re almost to the place with the good drugs.”

“You won’t be there, though,” he wheezed.

“Then you’ll just have to get better and take me on a real date.  You know, flowers and shit.  I bet you’re the type who buys roses, aren’t you?”

“I might be.”

“Of course you do.  Because you’re that sort of douchebag.”

Gina killed the engine and siren and from there it was a flurry of activity, reporting Roan’s injuries and turning him over to the trauma team.

A week later, a bouquet of a dozen red roses arrived at the station for Raven with a handwritten note.

 

_ You were right.  I am that sort of douchebag. _

_ — Roan _

 


End file.
